What Is My Problem?

I swear to god, I thought this posting thing would be a lot easier than I had originally figured. "How difficult is it to write a 3 or 4 paragraph rant every day?" I wondered. And now I know. It seems like the only time I write any halfway decent shit is when I'm 30,000 miles in the air and trying to get my mind off of my seatmate who keeps belching up his Italian sub sandwich. (As an aside, it was so strong, I could taste the salami when I breathed in that lovely recirculated airplane air.... mmmmmm.)

Thanksgiving was okay, I guess. Holiday plans were scuttled when the eldest progeny came down with a stomach virus and had to make a quickie visit to Children's Hospital on Friday morning for some tests. It wasn't anywhere as serious as the virus that knocked him out of commission for 2 weeks back in June, but it was a fun reminder that our health is fragile. So I guess I can say I'm thankful for his continued health.

Which reminds me of other things I am for: my family and friends ... my job (at least it's not co-counsel for the Saddam Hussein trial) ... Charlie Brown TV specials (which I've seen at least 1,000 times each) .... the Internet (or how else could I do my afore-mentioned job) ... "The Office" (BBC version, thankyouverymuch) ... coffee .... uhhhh, world peace. And some really, really important stuff that I can't think of right now. But you get the idea.

Anyway, I promise my loyal reader(s) to get my shit together and post more often. After all, what's more important than scanning my retarded posts every day? Yeah, yeah, I know -- pretty much everything else. But even so, my get-rich-quick, Internet/blog/IPO scheme ain't going to happen with my occasional, half-ass posts about Nelly and strippers.